But Its Better If You Do
by Hattersglasschild
Summary: Burlesque AU! Frisk is running away from home when she comes across a club called the Underground. After meeting a dancer from inside who claims he wants to help her, Frisk gets sucked into a world she never imagined herself being a part of. When she's forced to become one of the girls by the club owner, an unlikely protector steps up to shield her from harm. {Mostly Sans/Frisk}
1. Somewhere Downtown

**AN: Hi guys! So, this is my first ever Undertale fanfiction and I'm super happy with this AU that I've imagined and I hope you guys like it too. I actually wasn't going to post it but I ran it by two of my friends who were pretty encouraging. The response I get will determine if I post any other chapters are not so if you like what I've got going here, please please please let me know! I do want to add a few disclaimers though just in case:**

 **One: My Frisk is a girl. I'm well aware that they're in a sense genderless in the game and I tried really really hard to write this as a gender fluid character but I couldn't get it to work and rather than have it full of mistakes, i decided to make Frisk just a girl. I'm sorry if this upsets anyone. I have nothing against gender fluidity or anything like that. I'm actually a part of the LGBTQ community. Like I said, it was more of a writing style isse.**

 **Two: There will be a bit of an age gap between Frisk and Sans and considering she's still 'underage' that may make some people uncomfortable. If it does, I advise you not to read. There will also be mentions of abuse, alcohol, heavy drugs, violence and possibly rape. If that makes you uncomfortable, please turn back.**

 **Three: Although Sans/Frisk will be the main focused on pairing, other pairings will be mentioned. I'm not sure which ones yet (Papyrus/Mettaton for sure) so just a little heads up there.**

 **okay okay, enough disclaimers, on with the show my darlings!**

* * *

 ** _Chapter One: Somewhere Downtown_**

The cold was the worst part. Frisk had gotten used to pain that constantly twisted her empty stomach and the burn in her legs from trekking the snow covered streets but nothing had prepared her for the cold. She pulled her thin jacket even closer around her and was thankful that it had finally stopped snowing so her line of vision cleared. Her face had become so numb at times that she had almost considered turning back but it was too late for that. She never wanted to face that house again. She'd rather freeze to death. Her brown eyes stayed fixated on her feet most of the time, glancing up occasionally to look at street signs or landmarks to create a map in her head before returning to the ground. The money she had stolen for a bus ticket had only taken her so far but it was far enough away that she felt safe to walk on foot. She'd been smart enough not to spend all of her coins in one place so she had enough for food, but the money was running out quickly and she was losing hope fast.

A red, hazy glow on the powder white snow caught Frisk's attention and she looked up at the neon sign that caused it. The glowing red letters stood out against the black sky and showered everything around it in a similar tint. The Underground. The girl had never heard of this place before, but she assumed it was some kind of bar or nightclub based on the name. As she stood there debating on whether or not she should go in to warm up for awhile, a cough to the right of her caught her attention and she snapped her head toward the sound as a reaction.  
He was beautiful. Mesmerizing even. Frisk could honestly say she'd never seen anything like him before. His raven hair swooped perfectly over one eye, which clearly had contacts in them considering she could see the hot pink color from where she was standing a few feet away. The leather dress he wore hugged his form and only reached the top of his thighs, revealing only a hint of the fishnet stockings beneath. She was must distracted by the fusia high heeled boots he wore that went way past his knees, accenting his long legs and matched the lipstick. His pouty lips were wrapped around the end of a cigarette, the smoke blending in with his breath when he exhaled. She didn't mean to stare but it was hard not to. She was absolutely facinated by him.  
"Whats the matter darling?" he asked, pushing himself off the wall with one foot. His cigarette dropped into the snow beside him, the hand that had been holding it finding its home on his hip, "Never seen a man in heels before?"  
Her eyes went wide and her lips parted as if she were going to speak but no words came out. Her face was already red from the harsh winds that kept hitting her but she knew she was blushing from the relieving heat that began radiating from her cheeks. She was still searching from something, anything, to say when the man began to step forward. At first, she thought he meant to harm her, but the smile on his face was genuine.  
"Don't worry about it. Happens more than you think." He was directly in front of her now and she had to look up just to make eye contact. She hadn't realized how tall he was before, but she was only 5'4 and felt incredibly small next to him. "You got a name sweetheart?"

"Its Frisk," Her voice sounded so foreign to her. She hadn't spoken out loud in a week and the action was rather uncomfortable now. She began to rub at her dry through and cleared it, trying to make herself sound louder. "You?"

"My real name doesn't matter. I haven't used it in so long that its more of a distant memory than anything. Just call me Mettaton. Its great to meet you darling. I'm sure you're rather starstruck." He took her free hand and brushed his cold lips against the back, leaving a small kiss mark. "You seem to be a bit lost, Frisk." Lost? How could she be lost when she didn't even know where she was going? She shook her head.  
"Oh, I beg to differ. I can see it in your eyes dearie. I had that look in my eyes once. Let me guess, home is that way isn't it?" He pointed behind them. "How old are you Frisk?"

Frisk held her breath. This was the first time she had to tell this lie and she didn't want to blow it. "Eighteen," she said a bit shakily. "My birthday was last month.." That part wasn't a lie. She'd turned sixteen on January 17th. She couldn't tell if Mettaton believed her or not. He was a hard one to believe. If he thought she was lying, he didn't say so.  
"You must be cold darling, and I can hear your stomach from here. Come with me. Let mama Mettaton take care of you."  
Frisk was hesitant. This person was a complete stranger and she had no way to repay him. "I can't.. I need to find some place dry to sleep before it gets too late." The sun had just gone down so she was guessing it was close to eight. She hated walking later than ten. Besides, all the good spots were usually taken by then. "And I don't have any money to eat. Thank you though."  
"You just found some place dry to sleep. I have a room upstairs. I'm sure I have a change of clothes that will fit you. And as for food, its on the house. You don't really want to be out here any more do you?"  
"No.. but why are you being so nice to me. We just met."  
Mettaton squatted down so that he was eye level with Frisk, a sad smile on his lips. He brushed a strand of hair out of her eyes, looking at her for a few more minuets before replying with, "Like I said before, dear, I was you once... and I don't want you to end up like me." He stood up and held out his hand, which she happily took and let him lead her inside, taking one last look at the neon sign before the door shut behind her.


	2. Peach And Lime Daiquiri

**AN: This chapter was originally going to be much longer but I rewrote the beginning like seven times and got kind of frustrated with it so I cut it a little short. Chapter three is where it starts to get good anyway so look forward to that. This one is just more character introduction and background. Also, Tetris and Stacy are OCs of coarse. They're actually OCs for completely different fandoms but I found that they fit this story pretty well so I decided to use them. I know some people are against OCs, but I have a whole club full of dancers and Undertale doesn't have enough big characters to fill it.. Anyway, I hope you guys keep reading. I got some great reviews (Thank you so much for that guys!) and I'm really excited to keep showcasing this idea!**

* * *

 _ **Chapter Two: Peach and Lime Daiquiri**_

It wasn't much brighter inside than it was outside. Frisk was actually shocked by just how dim it was. They'd entered a rather large room lined with rows of vanities, each mirror casting their own glow that added to the brightness of the room but a majority of them were turned off. Each station had its own set of makeup and some clothes were tossed recklessly here or there but most of them were neat. At first glance, there only appeared to be eight girls total in the room but there was space for about twenty or so more. She wondered if the other girls were late or if these girls were just early. She visually stiffened up, her anxioty eating at her. She always felt nervous in crowds or around new people and she obviously didn't belong back here. What if someone said something to her? How would she react?  
Sensing her discomfort, Mettaton squeezed her hand and gave her a reassuring smile.

"Relax, darling. You're with me." He led her down the first row of mirrors, two blonde women occupying the second and third from the door. They wore matching outfits and looked like twins at first glance. The first was tall and lanky, her hair done up in smaller ringlets that cascaded down her back. The amount of hairspray fumes Frisk breathed in as she walked by was the cause of the volume, she was sure. Her eyeshadow matched the glittery white pinstripes on her corset and was lined all the way up to her tweezed eyebrows. She had very small breasts but had done some contouring on her chest to make them appear more pleasing. The only thing she was missing was lipstick. The second girl was just a little shorter and had a perfect hourglass, one Frisk found herself being quite jealous of the more she looked at it.  
Not to mention her breasts were spilling over the top of her corset and looked amazing. Her long platinum hair was pulled into a ponytail and her eyeshadow was less bold. She looked like she belonged in a beauty pageant, not some darkened room in the back of a club.

"There you are!" the one with the curls stated, spinning in her chair to face the two. Her green eyes were narrowed at Mettaton and she held her palm out. "You stole my lip gloss last night and I need it. Cough it up mister."

The minuet the words came tumbling out of the woman's mouth, Frisk was shocked. Although her voice had feminine qualities, it was actually quite deep and sounded more boyish than female.

"Oh don't lose your wig, Tetris," he cooed, reaching into the pocket of his dress and pulling out a tube of bright pink lipgloss, placing it in the girl's palm. "I kept it nice and safe. I'm sure I gave it more attention than you have in months. It looked better on me too."

"I'm sure it did baby, but its still mine."

The other girl looked up from adjusting her top and nodded her head at Frisk. "Whose your friend?" she asked, her voice coming off as girly and high pitched.

"Oh, where are my manors? Frisk, meet the other queens, Tetris and Stacy. Girls, this is Frisk."

The one named Stacy scoffed a bit and rolled her eyes. "Queens? Were more like the princesses and you're the queen. But nice to meet you anyway Frisk. I'm Stacy, thats Tetris and you've met Mettaton. Together we form the unholy trinity."

"Or at least thats what they call us anyway," Tetris chimed in, "We've sort of embraced it."

"N-Nice to meet you," Frisk whispered, hiding behind her new friend. These two seemed nice enough but she felt more comfortable staying closed off.

"Gaw! She's shy! We'll fix that soon enough." Mettaton leaned in close to his reflection, turning his head from side to side multiple times to check his makeup. He dabbed his lips with the pad of his finger to fix a lipstick smudge and ran an eyeliner pen beneath his eye to do a quick touch up. Without even taking his eyes of the looking glass, he opened the drawer to his right and pulled out a small wad of cash, tucking it into his bodice before kissing the glass, leaving a lip print. "I'll be right back, girls. I need to attend to Frisk for a moment, then you can fill me in on all the juicy gossip you've been dying to tell me all day. Toodles!" He blew each girl a kiss before taking her hand once more. "I do believe I promised you food darling and I think its time I deliver."

He led her through the open doorway onto what appeared to be some kind of stage. Thick, red velvet curtains hung in front of them, blocking her from the view of anyone on the other side. The area was enormous! It was four times the size of Frisk's room back home. Men dressed in black t-shirts and jeans were moving certain props around and lowering different backdrops in preperation for that nights show and Frisk could feel the excitement inside of her bubbling up. She loved theater. She'd studied ballet for ten years and had dreams of being a dancer when she was old enough. She'd danced in six different plays at her school so she wasn't inexperienced and she thought it was the only thing she was good at. She couldn't believe she'd stumbled onto this place by accident! To the far left was a pair of rather steep stairs that led down into the club itself which seemed a lot smaller than she thought it would from outside. Rows of tables and booths were set up perfectly on the carpeted floor, half dressed waitresses bustling around to different areas carrying trays of drinks and food. As soon as Mettaton stepped into view, a few of the patrons began cheering and whistling automatically, one man even raising a drink and blowing the man a kiss, which he caught and pressed to his lips. She decided he must be pretty famous around here to warrent such a reaction for just showing up. She was led toward the very back where a the bar was set up and a man with gorgeous red hair was drying glasses, stacking them in a pyramid display. She guessed he was in his mid thirties due to the slight crinkling of skin by his eyes. It was hardly noticable due to his thick framed glasses but Frisk was just that observent. Out of everyone she'd met so far, he was dressed the nicest in a white button up shirt, black vest and a bow tie to match. Although his expression was hard to read, his hazel eyes held nothing but kindness as the girl sat down on one of the stools.

"Grillby, peach and lime daiquiri, stat."

The man behind the counter gave a curt nod, not even asking for an ID or questioning her age in any way. Frisk wanted to protest, but a part of her also wanted to see what all the fuss was about alchol, so she stayed quiet. Once the drink was made, Mettaton set it down in front of her with a discrete wink. "Here sweetie. This'll warm you up real fast." He reached into his blouse and pulled a few bills out of the wad he'd placed there earlier and handed them to Frisk. She was shocked when it was placed in her hands and tried to give it back, but Mettaton shook his head. "I gotta go finish getting ready but Grillby here will take care of anything else you need, alright? You get whatever you want. I'll meet you back here at the end of the night." He began walking away but gave one last dramatic turn, facing Frisk again. "Oh, and honey? Enjoy the show."


	3. Burlesque Queen

**AN: Hey guys! I want to start this off by saying I'm really really happy with how this came out. Got some more characters popping up (Including everyone's favorite skeleton.. or at least, my favorite skeleton. I can't speak for everyone..) and everything is really coming together. Also, thank you everyone so much for your amazing reviews! I love how some of you are even making your own predictions about whats going to happen next and where certain characters are going to fit in here at the club. I love reading what you guys came up with! A few notes before we get started here:**

 **1\. In case anyone is confused any words inside this symbol (') indicate Grillby talking. I'm making him mute so I didn't want to use (") so I chose this route**

 **2\. I'm sorry for not explaining the stage scene better. The imagery will get better when the numbers become more character specific but there was so much going on and so many girls that I felt overwhelmed. If you want a better idea of the number, you can watch this: watch?v=Um3C9Gmpm4Y &list=PLgbnZ6OHjIHvzOuaUCm-pDgTpBB8mdIDp&index=5**

 **3\. IM REAllY REALLY REALLY REALLY BAD AT PUNS SO I APOLOGIZE FOR SANS CHARACTER IN ADVANCE. PLEASE LOVE ME.**

 **On with the story!**

* * *

 _ **Chapter three: Burlesque Queen**_

"One fifty? Come on Sans! That's ridiculous. I'll give you one ten."

Sans looked at the dancer before him, drumming his long, slender fingers on the table. No matter how many times he met with her or saw her on that stage, he really was unimpressed by her. Her clearly dyed brown hair cascaded down her back looking deader than ever. Her makeup wasn't even fresh, dried mascara clumps muddying her eyelashes and smeared eyeliner making her look more like a raccoon than a human. Considering she was Flowey's favorite, she didn't have it as rough as the others so she should at least look better than she always did.

"This isn't a negotiation. Its always been one fifty Chara and I'm not lowering it now. Do you want the shit or not?" He reached into the inside pocket of his blue hoodie, pulling out the small baggie of white powder and tossing it on the table to taunt her. "And don't pull that 'I can get it cheaper elsewhere' shit either because we both know if you get it elsewhere, you're going to have a bad time."

Chara sneered and reached into the front of her corset, pulling out a small stack of twenties and tossing it on the table. "There. One sixty. Consider the ten a down payment for next time since I don't have change."

He scooped the money up into a neat stack, thumbing through it just to double check her math. She honestly wasn't the brightest at times. He wasn't sure if it was the drugs clouding her judgement or the blinding rage she always suffered. Either way, the money checked out so he didn't complain.

"Always a pleasure doll, but do us both a favor and get moving. You have less than ten mineuts before cutrains go up and you look like you've been hit twice by a truck."

The dancer slammed her hand on the table, looking like she was going to lunge at him, but Sans remained unphased. A twisted smile made an apperence on her chapped lips and she just shook her head. "You're lucky you're the best dealer around or you'd be dead in the water somewhere."

He shrugged, flashing his own goofy smile. "You'd be making my dreams come true. I've always wanted to swim with the fishes."

She let out an exasperated sigh and stormed off, kicking the back of Frisk's chair when she passed.

She looked up from her half eaten cheeseburger with wide hazel eyes, looking after the clearly distressed girl but Grillby just smiled at her, moving his hands in a fluid motion with a message of reassurance.

'Don't worry about her, kid. She's too emotional for her own good.'

Frisk smiled at the man and nodded, touching her fingers to her lips and drawing them outward. "Thanks Grillby."

'I've been meaning to ask, were did you learn to sign?'

A bittersweet smile fell across the girls lips and she set her food back down on her plate, leaning her elbows against the counter. "My dad died of Cancer when I was six and for almost four years, I refused to speak. When I was little, instead of him reading me bedtime stories, I would make up my own stories and tell them to him while he tucked me in. I think my dad knew he was ready to die so on the last day, my mom tucked me into bed beside him and went downstairs to get us some dinner and my dad asked me to tell him a bedtime story. I went into this long story about a cat that had to save its dad from an evil dragon or something.. I don't remember much but my dad closed his eyes and at first I thought he was sleeping but the machines started beeping and the doctors and nurses rushed in... To make a long story short, my dad was the last person to hear my voice and I wanted to keep it that way. When my mom couldn't get me to speak, she started teaching me little hand gestures I could use to communicate. I started taking classes in seventh grade when I was old enough to fulfill my language requirement. Its my favorite language."

Even though she spoke her story aloud, she found herself signing it as well, never once missing a beat. She'd always said if she couldn't be a dancer when she grew up, she wanted to be an interpreter. Grillby started to sign her something, but she didn't catch the end because the lights went down and a song began playing over the loud speaker. She turned in her chair just in time to see the curtains opening.

A single spotlight illuminated Mettaton, his outfit having changed from earlier. Now He wore a black studded one piece and a pink feather boa, a dozen or so girls perched at his feet. He began to sing along with the music and for the second time that night, Frisk was in awe of him. His voice was like silk and he moved so fluently with the other girls. She was drawn in immediately, leaning forward in her seat, imaging being up there herself as several of the girls were introduced through song. She took note of several names: Stacy, Tetris, Georgia, Chara, Melanie.. Some she recognized, others she didn't. They were all good but nobody could compare to Mettaton. He was a true star. She couldn't help but hope that he might one day teach her.

The curtains behind the girls opened to reveal more dancers, some twirling on ribbons that cascaded from the cealing, others spinning on poles that lined the back drop. There were girls on tables and chairs and Frisk's eyes darted from one act to the other, enjoying every second of this performance.  
As Mettaton sang the last line of his song, he jumped into the air, landing in a perfect split with the rest of the girls.

"Ladies and gentlemen," he said from his place on the floor, everyone holding their current poses, "Welcome to Burlesque."

Frisk, along with the rest of the crowd, roared with applause.


	4. A Perfect View

**AN: Hello again, my lovely readers. I'm happy to see you all are enjoying yourselves on this little ride I'm taking you on! I'll try to keep my notes brief this time:**

 **1\. Just to reassure you all since some of you were mentioning it, no Frisk will not be consuming any illegal substances. come on now. Our girl is smarter than that. And Sans would never let her. Neither would Mama Metta.**

 **2\. Someone asked if the characters still had their powers in this. The answer to that question would be no. All the characters in the story are human and powerless (Although I adore the scenario the reviewer gave. I'd totally make it happen for you if Sans had his powers)**

 **3\. I'M GOD AWFUL WITH PAPYRUS. LIKE, IM WORSE WITH PAPY THAN WITH SANS AND I'M SUPER SUPER SORRY YOU GUYS.. I CAN'T BE GOOD AT EVERYONE.. I'm trying though so bare with me. I know a lot of people totally adore Papyrus and I'm one of them so please don't be too harsh on me?**

 **Anyways, here's Chapter four! Oh, and keep those reviews coming. They give me life**

* * *

 _ **Chapter Four: A Perfect View**_

Mettaton stared at his reflection in the mirror, watching his tears streak his makeup. He'd taken his contacts out to give his eyes a rest, the brown orbs portraying all of the sadness that he felt every second of his life. It was easy to hide behind the fame but being alone, there's nothing to shield you. He knew he had another ten minuets or so before the stage would beckon again and it was better to get it out now than to have someone see.

He placed his hand on the mirror, eye to eye with the image the glass was projecting. "You are beautiful," he whispered to himself, tasting the salt on his lips. "You are talented. You are loved." Without looking away, he picked up a brush from the cluttered space and drug it across his cheekbones, blending the tears in with his ruined foundation. "You are beautiful.. you are talented.. you are loved.."

"Mettaton?" a shy yet confident voice asked from behind him, causing him to jump and drop the brush again. He immediately attempted to regain composure.

"Do my eyes decieve me or is the most handsome security guard in all of the world standing in my reflection?" He looked him up and down through the mirror. Even through the dimness he could see his blush. "Did my sweet boy come to see me?"

Papyrus tried to calm his racing heart, not wanting to make a fool out of himself like last time. He'd only been trying to impress the dancer with his excellent cooking skills but the food made it onto Mettaton's chest before it reached his mouth and Papyrus was too busy speed walking in the opposite direction to catch his reaction. He was completely fine around everyone else but something about Mettaton made him awkward and timid. Being in his presence excited him and broke his heart at the same time.

"You sent for me remember?" he asked softly, seeing the misery in the other man's eyes. Out of the entire staff, Papyrus was the only one who'd ever seen him cry; who'd ever seen him vulnerable. "Undyne said you had special instructions for me." He took long strides over to the vanity, his long legs carrying him there fast. Hesitantly, he wrapped one arm around Mettaton's neck, using the other hand to wipe his still flowing tears away. "Don't cry.. Please? You're too pretty to cry."

Mettaton smiled and reached up to take Papyrus' hand, pressing a light kiss to it. Most of the time he avoided intimate contact with him, including hugs just to make it less painful for both of them. If there was one lesson the Underground taught him it was not to fall in love. He'd broken the poor boy's heart so many times out of necessity that they both wore the scars from it. "You think I'm pretty?" This only made the guard blush even more.

"You know I do," he murmured softly, quickly pressing a kiss to Mettaton's temple before he could protest. He hated that he had to steal his kisses at that it could never be on the lips, but he would take would he could get. "Now, whats this all about?"

"Theres a girl downstairs, younger looking, shoulder length brown hair, kind of looks like a prettier Chara.. anyway, her name is Frisk and she's a runaway. I met her outside earlier and I told her she could stay here with me tonight but I might let her stay longer."

"But Metta thats-"

"Don't!" he snapped, holding up one hand to stop him, "Don't you dare tell me that its a bad idea. I know that its a bad idea and I honestly don't give a shit! If I let her go back out there she'll freeze to death and if she doesn't freeze to death, she'll starve to death! Or worse, she could make all the stupid mistakes that I did and I don't want that! I don't want her to be like me, Papyrus! She can't!" He raked his hand through his hair, taking deep breaths to calm down. He felt like Papyrus was the only one he could actually talk to.. the only person he wouldn't let down if he had a breakdown.

"I know I can't save them all but if I can just save this one.."

"Okay," Papyrus whispered, beginning to stroke the dancers knuckles. "Okay, I'm sorry. What do you need me to do. I'll do anything."

He picked up a folded piece of paper and handed it to the guard after pressing his lips to it to add his signature kiss mark. "Give her this and then take her upstairs. You and Undyne have keys to all the rooms so just unlock it for her and make sure shes comfortable. Please please please take her before intermission is over. I need her out of here before the bidding..."

Both Mettaton and Papyrus flinched at that single word, but Papy nodded anyway, taking the note into his custody. "You can count on me Mettaton."

"Thank you my darling."

The guard started to walk away before he stopped and turned back to Mettaton. "

I love you," he said confidently, the way he always did after their encounters and the man gave his own signature response, a sad smile on his lips.

"I know."

Downstairs, Frisk's mouth was moving a mile a minuet as she gave Grillby a rather detailed run through of her opinion of every single act she'd experienced so far. Grillby had seen everything thousands of times before so it was hard to impress him really, but her reaction was adorable so he let her ramble on and on and on. She only stopped when someone behind her cleared their throat. She looked up to see a tall, lanky gentleman wearing a security uniform standing right beside her. Although he was thin, he had a little muscle on him and Frisk knew he could overpower her in a second if he really wanted to. His dark hair was closely shaved, the style adding a hit of maturity despite his baby face. There was a name stitched into the black material in white thread which she assumed was a last name. Faunt. A unique name that she decided she liked although her opinion didn't matter much. She began quaking, sure that he'd somehow discovered all her secrets and was here to toss her back to the street. Although her stomach was full, she didn't want to face the cold again.

"Why are you looking at me like I'm going to eat you?" he asked, cocking an eyebrow at the girl, his dark brown eyes studying her hard, "I can assure you that the taste of human flesh doesn't appeal to me in the slightest. Names Papyrus. You must be Frisk." He tipped his hat to her even though he was wearing it sideways, a goofy smile brightening his features. If Frisk had to guess she'd say he was between eighteen and twenty, still a child at heart despite his maturity.

"Yes.. but how did you know that?" she asked cautiously, still gripping the edge of the table as if it were a lifeline.

"I'm just that great," he told her with a wink, "Well, that and Mettaton told me. I'm here to take you to your room."

"Already? But the show isn't over yet..."

"Hey, orders are orders. Metta can't do it later since he has to work late. Behind the scenes stuff, y'know, but you're in great hands kid. I'd be honored if I was you."

Frisk wiggled to her feet, slinging her backpack over one shoulder. "Lead the way, oh wise one," she said with a hint of sarcasm that her new friend didn't catch.

"Thanks!" he exclaimed, the single word oozing enthusiasm. He gestured for her to follow, leading her back down the long hallway she'd come down before, going the opposite way this time. There was an elevator at this end and they rode it all the way up to the top floor. The elevator doors opened into a small hallway with a locked white door at the end that was unlocked with a small silver key that was unlike any of the others on the key chain Papyrus had in his possession.

"Welcome to the penthouse, Frisk," he said as he gestured for her to step inside. The view was gorgeous! Although they were only five or six floors up, the city lights looked like a gazillion multicolored stars that she could wish upon. A King sized bed with a pink canopy surrounding it was center to the wall directly in front of her, a decent sized kitchen to right, a small living room to the left. The bathroom door was open and the tub looked like a small swimming pool and that wasn't even up close! She was in total awe of herself.

"Wowie, you haven't even lived here a full day yet and you've already got mail." He winked at her as he handed her the letter. "I've gotta get back to my post, but you can call downstairs if you need anything. Theres a phone in the kitchen and by the couch. If you hit the first button, Grillby should pick up." He started laughing immediately after he said the words. "No he won't. He doesn't talk. I'm so funny. Anyway, night kid!"

Frisk waited until he was gone to open the letter, sitting down on the couch and getting comfortable before doing so.

 _Frisk,_

 _Hello darling. I do apologize for having to reach you this way but it appears I have some things to attend to after the show tonight. You enjoyed it, right? Oh, what kind of question is that? Of coarse you did. Anyway, I suspect you'll be sleeping by the time I get back so I'll try to be quiet when I come up. If you'd like, you can sleep in the bed. Its quite comfortable and would be quite refreshing for you. I won't mind. I promise. If you need to bathe, feel free. I have clothes that I'm sure will fit you in the bedroom closet which is also where you will find extra blankets if you need them. Tomorrow, I'll take you shopping and I'll help you pick out a few things of your own. Something to look forward to. Help yourself to anything in the kitchen. Just make yourself comfortable my dear. We'll talk more when I see you tomorrow, alright?_

 _Xoxo,_

 _Mettaton._

The girl couldn't help but smile at the beautiful cursive (written in pink of coarse) and held the letter against her chest as she dozed off.


	5. In A Shopping Cart

**AN: Greetings lovely humans! Chapter five is finally done! I had some troubles with this one because I feel like its dragging on too much and theres not enough drama to keep you all interested and I'm sorry.. Next chapter will be much better, I promise. I'm having some conflictions with the story though concerning some of the plot (which hasn't been revealed to the readers yet) and where some characters are going to fit in. Honestly, Burgerpants wasn't going to make the cut but my fiance wanted an appearance so I squeezed him in. However, if you guys could give me suggestions for Toriel and Alphys (as well as anyone else you want to see) that would be awesome.**

 **Things to look forward to in Chapter six: Flowey, a Skelebros interaction, a possible Sans/Frisk interaction, motherly Mettaton, and a huge plot surprise (maybe... I don't know if I'm going to go with this plan yet...) Anyway, enjoy!**

* * *

 ** _Chapter Five: In A Shopping Cart_**

Frisk awoke the next morning when the smell of pancakes hit her nose. The aroma was so nostalgic that she had a slight panic attack as she sat up from her spot on the couch, thinking for a split second that she was home. She rubbed her eyes with a soft yawn, waiting for her eyes to focus before looking around. She was quite relieved to find that she was still in the penthouse and Mettaton was in the kitchen.

"Look whose finally awake!" he called in a sing song voice, looking over his shoulder. He was wearing nothing but a long white t-shirt that passed his knees and a frilly pink apron that said Kiss The Cook on the front. His hair was a total mess, he wasn't wearing makeup and his contacts were out, which through the girl completely off. If they had been better friends, she would have questioned who this intruder was and when the real Mettaton was coming back but she kept her mouth shut and just smiled shyly.

"I hope you're hungry," he said, sitting a stack of pancakes on the island in the middle of the kitchen. There were stools around it so Frisk assumed it doubled as a table. She pushed to her feet, shuffling over and climbing up onto one of the leather stools, her feet dangling down since her legs weren't long enough to have them touch the carpet. In addition to the pancakes, there were a few slices of bacon and four halves of toast. Four glasses containing what appeared to be water, orange juice, chocolate milk, and some kind of pop were arranged in an arc around the plate. "I didn't know what you'd want to drink, so I just poured you a glass of everything I had." he explained, stealing a piece of bacon for himself and sitting down across from her.

"Um.. thanks," she whispered, taking a small sip of the chocolate milk, which just so happened to be her favorite.

"Don't mention it darling. Its probably been awhile since someone has made you breakfast." He winked at her, resting one elbow on the table and placing his chin on the back of his hand. "Did you at least sleep well? The couch doesn't look very comfortable. You really should have just taken the bed."

"I didn't want to take it away from you. Its your home and your were nice enough to let me stay here..."

He waved her off, taking a long drink from a Pepsi can that had been sitting on the table since Frisk got there last night. The face he made afterward indicated that it had probably been there much longer and was flat. "Nonsense. I can share. Its big enough for both of us. You're sleeping in the bed tonight. Don't fight me on this."

Frisk looked up from her food, her eyebrows knitted together in confusion. He made it sound like he was letting her stay again... "But I though-"

"Well you thought wrong," he said before she could even finish. "I like having you around Frisk, and since you have nowhere to go, I'm more than happy to let you make a home here. I talked to Grillby about maybe letting you help out downstairs so you can earn a little extra money and I'll even let you help with the costumes backstage if you want. We're like a family here Frisk and we protect each other. You can do whatever you want, but the offer is there if you want it."

Frisk dropped her fork and put her head down, falling quiet for a minuet. His words were running through her head, certain words like family and home echoing louder than the others. She dug her nails into her arm quietly to make sure she wasn't dreaming before the tears started tumbling down her cheeks. She wiggled off of the stool and walked around the side, flinging herself at Mettaton and crying into his side, since that was as tall as she could reach. He embraced her, kissing the top of her forehead as he shushed her, the words thank you leaving her lips like a short mantra.

"You're welcome." He gently eased away and kissed her forehead. "Now, finish eating and get dressed, I do believe we have a shopping trip planned."

As one would expect, it took Mettaton over an hour to get ready and he changed his clothes at least ten times before settling on a grey tube top and black leggings. The silver pumps he picked out matched the top perfectly and he threw on a pink scarf to add some color. Frisk sat on the edge of the bed, watching him bustle around feeling almost envious of him. She wished she could be as pretty as Mettaton. She looked down at her stained striped sweater and ripped jeans feeling extremely self conscious. "You're really pretty, Mettaton," she whispered, kicking the toe of her worn Chuck Taylors against the ground.

The dancer looked up from his compact mirror, glancing over at the girl. He sensed her sadness right away and frowned. "You're pretty too darling."

She just laughed softly and shook her head. She didn't feel attractive at all. She never had. She was a little on the chunkier side and had been bullied for her weight all of her life. Her eyes were too small, she had a gap in her teeth and all in all, her face was just average. She didn't have the confidence to pull off pretty. She felt Metta grab her hand and looked up, returning the smile he gave her.

"You may not see it now, but one day, I'll make you see just how beautiful you are." He kissed her hand, nothing but sincerity in his eyes. Mettaton may be a drama queen who over exaggerated everything, but he wasn't a liar. "But for now, we have to go."

As the two were heading out the main entrance of the club, a short, rather pale boy with one headphone over his ear gently tapped Mettaton on the shoulder. He was only a few inches taller than Frisk and his hair was so blonde it was almost white. He had the prettiest electric blue eyes but the look of sorrow in them made her heart hurt for the boy and she'd never even seen him before. "Um.. excuse me, sir.." he said in a low, shaky voice, his entire body hunched over as if he wanted the floor to swallow him.

"Ah, if it isn't my favorite DJ!" the dancer exclaimed when he turned around, ruffling the shorter boys hair. "Frisk, I'd like you to meet Napstablook. Napsta, this is Frisk."

Napstablook gave a small wave, stuttering out a hello. "H-hi there. Its.. Its Nate actually. Everyone just calls me Napstablook and DJ Spooky is just my stage name... You can call me whatever.. I guess." He shifted from side to side, blushing furiously. "I was just.. um.. Wondering about the tracks for tonight. Chara and Stacy have both told me different things but I figured you would know.."

"It should be Tracks three and five. I told Chara no on her second solo act and she got pissy so if she gave you anything, disregard it."

"A-are you sure.. I don't want Flowey getting angry.. I really need this job.." Mettaton pressed a reassuring kiss to the boy's cheeks and put a hand on his shoulder. "If anyone was going to get in trouble, it would be me and I can handle Mr. Big Shot so don't you worry alright. All you need to know is tracks three and five."

"Yes sir," he squeaked out, his blush intensifying and he quickly scurried away before he could be embarrassed any further.

"He's such a sweetheart.." Mettaton told Frisk, looping his arm through hers as they walked outside.

A car was waiting for them out front and the driver looked like he hated his life and everyone in it. He was drumming his fingers on the steering wheel, glancing at his watch every ten seconds and making the time drag on slower. His curly red hair was hidden under his hat, his green eyes puffy from both a lack of sleep and the amount of weed he had to smoke to get him through his days. Several times he considered banging his head on the steering wheel but he didn't need a concussion on top of everything else that was going wrong today. He watched the two slide into the back of Mettaton's Escalade, forcing a smile onto his face. He never did understand why the man had a car if he didn't know how to drive, but then again, he'd be out of a job if he did.

"Thanks for waiting for us Clarence," Mettaton cooed, crossing one leg over the other as he settled in against the leather. Frisk was quietly looking out the window, studying her surroundings.

"Thats not my name," he said through gritted teeth but still smiling, his eye twitching a bit. Metta just rolled his eyes and waved his hand in the air. "Yeah yeah. Just drive."

Mettaton spent way too much on her. No matter how cheap she tried to be or how much she protested, he bought every single thing she tried on and more. Nobody had done anything like this for her in years. She held onto his arm wearing a frilly black dress, and black open toed flats. She looked gorgeous and for once she felt it. She hadn't stopped smiling since leaving the store. Mettaton had changed as well and was currently wearing a suit at Frisk's request. She inquired about what he would look like in one, so he bought one just to show her. His tie was pink of coarse and he kept the shoes from earlier, but he still looked amazing. When they passed the two security guards at the front of the club, one of which Frisk didn't recognize, Papyrus looked like he might faint. Mettaton winked at him, smoothly stating his name as Papyrus held the door open for them. His eyes followed him the entire way until he was completely out of view.

"Yo loverboy," the other guard exclaimed, slapping him in the back of the head. "Stop staring at his ass and maybe focus on your job? You know, the one I worked so hard to get you?"

The boy yelped a little and rubbed the back of his head, shooting a glare at the female. "I.. I was not!" he protested, flushing because he'd been caught and there was no getting it past Undyne. "Okay.. maybe a little but can you blame me?"

The fiery latina rolled her eyes. "Totally not my type. If you haven't noticed, I prefer vagina." She tightened her ponytail and straightened her hat, blowing a bubble with her blue raspberry bubblegum. "Besides, I know you have major heart eyes for him or whatever, but you don't need someone like that in your life. He'll just break your heart, y'know."

Papyrus sighed, fidgeting with the antenna of the walkie talkie on his utility belt. He wanted to give him up and just let go but he couldn't. He wasn't ready. "Its a little late for that."

She popped her bubble, putting a hand on his shoulder. He was a little taller than her, but she didn't mind it. It made him easier to lean on. "Damn it Paps. What you need is a drink. We still have an hour if you want me to buy you one."

"I'm not even old enough and I'm fine. Really."

She scoffed, shaking her head a little. "You're only a few months off and alright alright. Just don't let it interfere with your job."

Papyrus immediately straightened up, his unmistakable smile returning once more. "Me? I never get distracted! I'm too great for that!"

Undyne gave another eyeroll but smiled back. "Pft... Whatever you say Paps. Whatever you say."


	6. Black Eyes From Loving Too Hard

**AN: GUYS I KNOW I PROMISED YOU GUYS FLOWEY IN THIS CHAPTER AND I SWEAR IM WORKING ON IT! I SWEAR! To be fair, I actually cut this from the beginning of the next chapter so it could be a stand alone. Otherwise, this would have been waaaayyy too long. I didn't realize everything I had to do in this chapter.. Thats why its taken so long to post. I wrote A LOT. I also promised you guys a big reveal in this chapter... and here it is (if you can read between the lines, I did two big reveals so that should make up for no Flowey). I didn't know if I was going to go with the idea or not, but I liked it to much not to so hopefully you guys are happy with it. The next chapter should be up either tomorrow or the next day. I just need to edit it!**

* * *

 _ **Chapter Six: Black Eyes From Loving Too Hard**_

The shoes gave her away. Dirty white sketchers with gray cats sloppily painted on the sides and clumsily tied black and white checkered shoe-strings. It didn't matter that she had a plain black hoodie covering her hair, face, and clothes or that she was actually wearing normal jeans for once instead of scrubs, Undyne could still pick her out of a crowd just from that small detail. Alphys never left home without the shoes. She'd been wearing the same pair for over three years now and refused to trade them for anything. She was far too attatched. However, if she couldn't fool Undyne, she'd never get past Mettaton.

The bouncer threw her arm out, smiling as the undercover girl let out a soft oof once she bumped into it.

"I'm going to need you to step to the side for a moment Miss." She nodded at Papy, the silent gesture letting him know she needed a few minuets. She tugged her a safe distance away from the line and gently gripped her shoulders, hunching over so that they would be on the same level.

"What are you doing here?" she asked in a tone that she only used with Alphys, one that was soft and less edgy; more gentle. "You know you shouldn't be here. I have strict orders not to let you in."

Alphys lifted her arms, pushing her hood back a little so she could peer at her girlfriend from behind her thick glasses. Her blue eyes were glistening with sadness at the other girls words and she looked like a worried mother who was concerned for her child. "Has he figured it out yet?" she asked shakily, fearing the worst as always.

"No," Undyne told her, reaching up to toy with a loose strand of blonde hair, "Which is why you can't be here. If he finds out we're dating and I'm keeping you informed it isn't going to end well for either of us and you'll lose your informant. I know its hard Alphy, but you have to keep your distance."

She let out a heavy sigh and shook her head. "He's my brother, Undyne. Please just let me see him. Just this once. I wont ask again and I'll be careful. Its killing me inside.. please!"

Undyne had never seen her look so broken and desperate. How could she say no to that? She understood her worry and she knew what she was about to see was going to destroy her but who was she to keep her from the truth. "Ten minutes, Alphy. You have ten minutes."

Inside, Mettaton slowly slid his sunglasses from his eyes, grimacing as he looked in the mirror. He'd been forced to wear them all morning so he wouldn't worry Frisk but taking them off now was painful. At least he'd been able to avoid the reality for a little while.

Tetris looked over, a sad, understanding smile on her face. She'd been in the same spot quite a few times. She wouldn't wish it on anyone but knew it was unavoidable. "Rough night?"

"You have no idea," he replied, slowly running a makeup brush under his eye, trying to avoid pressing on the tender skin. "But, today is a new day. Keep your hopes high girls. The sun will come out someday."

"I used to say that to you when you were little..."

The voice behind him made him freeze up completely. No.. He did not need this right now. He turned his body, looking over his shoulder with narrowed eyes. How did she even get in here? Security was going to get a lengthy lecture when this was over with. "What do you want, Alphys?"

Alphys had already known that he wouldn't want to see her, so why was she so hurt by it. She sighed and stepped over to him, pulling up a stool from an abandoned vanity so she could sit beside him. Both Stacy and Tetris scurried out of the room to give them a little privacy and she waited to speak until after they were gone.

"A black eye? Seriously Matthew? You don't call or text and you've stopped coming to your appointments and when I finally get to see you, you have a black eye?" She reached out to cup his cheek with one hand but he batted her away.

"Don't call me that. You know better than to call me that. I haven't been Matthew in years. It's Mettaton now." Mettaton crossed his arms over his chest and turned his chin down, avoiding eye contact with her. "And It's not that bad. Things just got a little rough. It happens. I'm fine."

"No, it's not fine! This place isn't good for you Matthew.. It's not. You don't have to do this anymore. There are people who love you." She placed her finger under his chin, lifting it so she could look into his eyes. She wiped the single tear that was trickling down his cheek and picked up the brush he'd set down, carefully running it over the bruising. She'd never been good at makeup so he'd no doubt need to touch it up when she was done, blend it a little better, but she wasn't going to let him push her away. Not this time. "I'm not asking you to go home but you could at least come stay with me. Father doesn't have to know where you are." Mettaton was almost twenty four now, but she still viewed him as the child he was when he first ran away. There was six year age gap between them as it was so he would always be her baby brother in her eyes.

Mettaton flinched at the mention of home. It had been seven years but he still wasn't over it. His father's drunken words rang in his head every night with every new pair of hands on him. They were haunting. _You're worthless and disgusting. How did I ever love you._

"This is my home Alphys. The people here love me. I'm not just going to abandon them. They look up to me. I told you before, I'm fine."

The silence between them after that felt suffocating and Alphys was the first to speak of coarse. "Just remember that I love you too.." She sighed and knelt on the ground next to his feet. "While I'm here, can I at least take a look?"

Mettaton looked behind him to make sure the room was still clear before he nodded, reaching down to help her even though she didn't need it. His legs came of easily and he used his arms to adjust himself on the stool.

"Have you been having any issues," she asked and he replied with a swift shake of his head. They were holding up extremely well after the last repairs and it was uncanny how well they blended in. Nobody suspected that he was an amputee at all and he liked to keep it that way. He'd worked so hard to learn how to dance on them, how to walk in heels with them. He'd put in hours of practice to get to this level and achieved so much, yet he was still slightly ashamed of them. Alphys had done such a good job building them and maintaining them and he'd be forever grateful to her for that. Having a sister with a PHD had some perks. After all, he only kept her away to protect her from this reality but then again.. She looked just like her. The natural waves in her blonde hair, the striking blue eyes, the perfectly rounded nose and high cheekbones... it was like staring at a shorter, chubbier version of his mother and he couldn't deal with that yet. Especially in moments without his prosthetics because then he couldn't block out the memories. The sun glinting off the windshield, Donna Summer blaring from the speakers, here eyes in the rearview mirror as she watched ten year old Mettaton dance along with the music from the backseat, the sound of glass shattering, flying forward in the seat, bypassing the seat in front of him, blacking out before he could remember anything else. He'd waken up with no legs and the news that his mother didn't make it. He bit his lip, trying to push everything to the back of his mind like he always did, but today it wasn't working.

"Matthew... Nobody blames you," Alphys said, seeing the pain on his face but he wasn't buying it.

"Bullshit Alphys," he snapped, "I blame me! I should have been the one to die. Not her! If I hadn't gotten detention, she wouldn't have even been on the road! If I hadn't been hungry, we would have been home already and none of it would have happened."

"But we still love you! Me and dad-"

"Don't you dare!" He put his face in his hands, thankful that his foundation was water resistant so he wouldn't have to reapply it. "Don't you dare try and tell me he loves me. He's told me otherwise too many times to count. You know what? I'm sorry that I couldn't live up to his standers. I'm sorry I wanted to be in choir and not on the football team. I'm sorry I'm not into girls. I'm sorry you all adopted the wrong child. I'm sorry I disappointed him but you know what, he disappointed me. Don't you dare try to make excuses for him either! He's been drunk off his ass since she died. I get that he's sad but that doesn't mean he gets to abandon his responsibilities as a parent."

Alphys didn't know what to say.. There was nothing for her to say. Instead, she stood up and wrapped her arms around her younger brother, holding him as tightly as she could. "No matter what, I love you okay? I'll be right here if you need me. All you need to do is call."

"I love you too Alphys," he cried, practically clinging to her, "But can you please just leave now? I'll call you soon. I just need to be alone for awhile.."

Although it killed her to do so, she let go and respected his wishes. She wanted to do something, anything to help him but he wasn't ready yet. She'd give him time and be there to put him back together the moment he needed her to.

As soon as he was calm enough to do so, he strapped his legs back into their rightful places, made sure his face was devoid of any evidence he'd been crying and went to yell at Undyne and Papyrus for being careless. This was already a long day and it was just starting.. Surely it couldn't get any worse..


	7. Strip Joint Verteran

**AN: I do believe I promised you lovely readers Flowey. Well ladies and gents, meet our favorite antagonist! Also, I apologize if I'm not doing well with his character. I'm trying to make him very bipolar but I don't know if I'm succeeding or not.. Sorry if you're disappointed D: I've edited this like a billion times and I feel like this is the best I can do... Be prepared for shit to absolutely hit the fan in the next two chapters though!**

 **NOTE: In this AU, Asriel and Flowey are completely separate people (and Asriel will most likely not show up in this story) but I wanted to make that very clear!**

 **TW: Theres a non-con/rape mention but its very brief and in no way graphic.**

* * *

 _ **Chapter Seven: Strip Joint**_ ** _Veteran_**

The warehouse smelled like cardboard and stale cigarette smoke, water stains and decay holding the old walls together. In the beginning, the place had totally weirded Chara out but now, it was like a home. Her heels clicked on the cement floors, the cold air making her shiver. She wore what was required of her, black lace panties that hugged her jagged hips, a bra that was too small for her C Cup breasts, sheer black thigh highs that attached to her underwear and a silk robe that hung open. A yellow daisy rested in her hair, the stem tucked behind her ear to keep it in place. She looked like a cheap prostitute, which is exactly what she had become except for the fact that she had only one customer, and he was somewhere in this forsaken place.

Flowey stuck his cigarette between his teeth, taking a long draw once the end was lit. Wisps of smoke exited his nose and mouth before he fully exhaled. He looked absolutely menacing, and he was. He'd earned his place here through bloodshed and violence, completely erasing the identity of the now nameless man he'd once been to turn into the monster that was Flowey.

"You gonna just stand there quivering like an idiot, or do you have something to tell me?" He held his pistol lazily in one hand, swinging it from side to side menacingly as one of his scouts stood before him. Two of his men stood at each of his sides, guns ready if Flowey were to give the command, their faces blank and completely unreadable.

"R-Right boss.. My apologies. We had two girls quit the Neverland location. They just disappeared in the middle of the night. There's no trace of them."

The boss leaned forward, running a hand through his spiked blonde hair. His body had become tense, his fingers clenching and unclenching as he tried to keep his cool. "Names, Wilson?"

"Stratford and Jessica. Ages nineteen and twenty three. Both big money makers," Wilson replied, touching the tips of his fingers together. "Profits are up at Wonderland and The Underground but due to our Neverland situation, profits are down at that location."

Flowey cocked his gun, toying absentmindedly with the trigger. "We'll get the Dogs on the girls. I'm sure they'll turn up and they'll be promptly punished. Nobody pulls the wool over my eyes. Is that all you needed to tell me?"

"Well.. Sir..." The scout was sweating profusely, obviously nervous about continuing his report and he was saved, at least for a moment when Chara strode in. She shoved Wilson, causing him to stumble to the side without falling, a sweet sadistic grin on her face. "There you are baby," she cooed as she walked up to him. "I was hoping I'd catch you here."

"Chara?" he asked, cocking an eyebrow. He hadn't been expecting her. She always called if she was going to be early and never just showed up at random. He looked her up and down, scowling at how skinny she had become. Her rib cage was visible and he found it quite disgusting. She had claw marks on her arms from the constant scratching and her nose was starting to warp on both sides. He could see the dried blood on the rims of her nostrils and rolled his eyes. Despite being among the top drug smugglers and running one of the most successful prostitution rings the city has ever seen, he'd never once tried any of the heavier drugs. He smoked two packs a day and drank his little heart out, but he refused to put anything illegal into his system.

"You look a mess," he hissed at her, "And you know better than to just show up. I'm busy." He tried to ignore her and get back to what he'd been doing, but she plopped down in his lap and started kissing at his jaw.

"Too busy for me? Come on babe.."

In a fit of frustration, Flowey grabbed her by her shoulders and threw her to the side, his hand coming down across her cheek. "I said I was busy," he roared, his eyes burning holes in her, "And you have no right to interrupt me with your nonsense!"

Chara lay in a small pile on the floor, clutching her cheek as she tried not to cry. You'd think she'd be used to this by now, but he still managed to get her every time. She'd tired fighting back once, but he'd pulled a knife on her and her shoulder would be forever scarred. That didn't stop her from planning his death over and over in her head but for now, she was reduced to submission.

"Wilson, continue," he panted, trying to get a grip on his anger.

"Jackson and Barnett have been compromised," he squeaked out, knowing the rage this news would cause his boss.

"Excuse me," he said in an oddly calm tone, sending the scout into an explanation that came out way too fast.

"Well, you see, they went to pick up the supplies at twelve o six instead of twelve nineteen because they didn't want to wait around but I don't think it woulda mattered ya see because the cops woulda been there waitin for 'em anyway. Dreemurs been on our asses lately as it is. Look, our field agents are tryin but they just keep gettin closer and closer and-"

Bang.

Flowey had heard enough. He didn't want anymore excuses. So what if that stupid detective was investigating. His men were highly trained and should be making smarter decisions. Now his inventory was low and two of his best smugglers were in prison. He trusted them enough to keep their mouths shut but he needed to make a few calls to ensure that his stock wouldn't be found and this operation wouldn't be put in jeopardy.

Wilson crumpled to the floor with a loud flood, his blood creating a small puddle on the cemented ground. He nodded to his men. "Deal with him."

"Yes boss," the said simultaneously and drug the body from the room. Only when they were gone did the man drop his weapon. Chara was still panting on the ground and when Flowey remembered she was there, his emotions began to spaz out on him. Although he was still worried about business and angry over the news he'd just received, he couldn't help but feel bad for assaulting her. Part of him felt she deserved it, but the other felt sorry for her.

"Stand up, baby," he said gently, reaching out to pet her hair from where he sat. "Come here..."

She did as she was asked of coarse and settled herself back in his lap. He caressed her face, feeling so guilty for his violent behavior but she snarled at him, causing a soft whimper to pass his lips.

"Come on Chara," he pleaded, "Don't be mad.. I didn't mean to hurt you.. I'd never hurt you on purpose.. You got in the way..."

It was just another lie. He'd intentionally harmed her on several occasions and she could name every single detail of every encounter. She inwardly flinched when his hands found her thighs, his baby blues begging for forgiveness.

"Come on baby.. I'll do anything to make it up to you.. Anything."

"Anything?" she asked with a small smirk, playing the victim card perfectly. When he wasn't being a complete dick, she could manipulate him with the wave of a finger. She could manipulate anyone if she tried hard enough.

"Well.. Mettaton has been pretty mean to me lately.. He keeps limiting my stage time and calling me a brat. Will you please come see me dance tonight and take care of it? I'm doing Gods and Monsters.."

The criminal's eyes lit up. Gods and Monsters had been the number that made Flowey want the girl in the first place. It had been a few years back when he was still negotiating for ownership of The Underground. Chara had been so new then, completely fresh. It had only been her third week at the club and this was to be her first solo act. She nailed it of coarse and Flowey set out to claim her. Things had been so much different back then. She'd been so happy and carefree but he'd broken both her will and her spirit. Now she was nothing but a crack whore and she was reminded of it every single day.

"Nobody fucks with my baby. I'll be there.. I promise," he told her, pressing his smooth lips against her rough ones. As soon as he laid her back on the couch, she knew what was coming so she did the only thing she could do: close her eyes and pretend she was somewhere else. There were days where she actually felt like she loved him.. wanted him.. needed him.. and on those days she enjoyed their interactions...

But today was not one of them.


	8. Praying For Love

**AN: Hey there again guys! I'm baacck.. Okay, just to let you know, this chapter has been written for three weeks.. but some other pieces needed to fall in place before I could post it. To be honest, I'm not happy with it at all but I've stalled updating for too long to fix it now. A lot of you have been asking for Sans to meet Frisk and bam. Here it is. Its a tiny interaction but don't worry, you'll get more soon. You know how these things go. I had to construct the plot first! Also, some of you are starting to catch on... I like that! Makes me feel like I'm doing a good job!**

 **DISCLAIMER: I DO NOT AGREE WITH CHARAS VIEWS IN THIS CHAPTER NOR ANYTHING SHE SAYS. HER WORDS DO NOT REFLECT ME AS A PERSON AND ARE ONLY SAID TO FIT HER CHARACTER. PLEASE DONT SPAM ME WITH HATE BECAUSE IM A MEMBER OF THE LGBTQ COMMUNITY MYSELF AND I LOVE EVERYONE.**

 **TW: Cutting mention.**

* * *

 **Chapter Eight: Praying For Love**

Frisk mumbled the lyrics to Diamonds Are A Girl's Best Friend under her breath as Chara performed the number onstage. She was clearing glasses and plates off of a now empty table and couldn't help but shake her butt along with the beat. She found herself doing that quite often, especially since Mettaton had started teaching her some of the dance moves to some of the numbers so she could help him practice. She'd even tried on the outfits when he wasn't in the room. A whole month had gone by, but Frisk had long since stopped counting the days. She juggled her responsibilities as a waitress perfectly. She was punctual, observant and friendly making her rather popular with the regulars. She never wore anything too revealing although Mettaton insisted she wore skirts that barely covered her backside to add to the atmosphere of the club. Since he was taking care of her, she obliged. Not to mention, she didn't want him to get in trouble with the owner, who she'd heard quite a bit about by this point. Despite the occasional butt grabs and angry customers, she'd say her life was finally falling into place.

Sans had been watching her all night out of sheer curiosity. He was in the Underground at least twice a week but she'd just started showing up a few weeks ago. He tossed back the rest of his drink, and slid the empty glass over to his old friend and nodded his head toward the girl. "Hey Grilbs, whose the kid?"

Grillby filled the glass with San's usual concoction and slid it back to the man, glancing over at Frisk. He'd become quite protective over the girl since she'd started working for him and in his honest opinion, she was too pure for this place, but it wasn't his place to say so. He'd broken the fingers of a few handsy customers but he didn't mind doing it. The patrons deserved what was coming to them half the time.

'Who Frisk? She's a friend of Mettaton. She needed a job so I let her help out.' He set down a circular tray on the bar and began filling it with drinks that had become branded into his memory by now and considering it was getting close to showtime, the girls would be getting antsy by now.

"I think Papy mentioned something about her being a runaway or something. There's no way she's old enough to be here."

Grillby slammed his hands down on the counter and gave Sans a look that told him to stop asking questions. He'd learned her age awhile ago and heaven forbid anyone else found out because there were two ways that situation would go, and he didn't want to think about either one.

'Just do me a favor and stay away from her. I don't need her getting into the trouble you like to cause.' He wiped his hands on his apron and disappeared into the back to grab a few things, just as Frisk was walking up, stuffing a few singles into her apron. She stepped up behind the bar and blew her bangs out of her face, leaning her elbows on the wood. She needed to catch her breath before she climbed the rather steep stairs that led backstage.

"You okay kid? You look a little winded."

She looked up with a small smile. "Oh believe me. I'm not complaining. I like keeping busy. Is there anything I can get you?"

"Nah, you need a break more than I need a distraction." For some odd reason, his voice gave her goosebumps. It was deeper than most but still remained gentle. The club was filled with pretty people half the time, but he stood out to her above anyone else. She'd seen him before, plenty of times. He was usually at the bar but she'd seen him in the crowd talking to different people. She'd also seen him backstage with Chara before but she never really looked happy to see him, which ruled out them being a couple, at least in her mind. She was really drawn by his eyes. The left was deep brown, so dark that it almost seemed black but the right was an exotic shade of blue, a white ring framing his pupil. His eyes made it hard to study the rest of his face because she didn't want to look away from them. She'd never seen him wear anything but the halfway zipped blue jacket he wore now. The shirt beneath seemed like it hadn't been washed in days, yet he still smelled like old spice and firewood. It was such an odd combination but oddly soothing. The man held out his hand to her, chuckling a bit as she stared at him.

"I know I'm quite fascinating, aint I sweetheart? The names Sans and this isn't the last you'll see of me. Just between us, I only come here for the free drinks."

She laughed almost shyly as she took his hand, shaking it slightly. She hadn't noticed that her sleeves were riding up, revealing the intricate little scars that lined her wrists. If she wore short sleeves of any kind, she always made sure to wear wrist bands or bracelets to hide them, both old and new that way no one would worry. It was her best kept secret but Sans zeroed in on them right away. He turned her hand over and ran his thumb soothingly over the marks, something he'd always wished secretly that someone would do for him. He'd long since gotten over the habit, but that didn't stop the urges at times. "Whats this, kid?" he asked softly, his eyes raising to meet hers.

She tried to jerk back, cursing herself for being so careless but something in his eyes made her relax. She didn't speak. Mostly because she didn't know how to explain herself but judging by his reaction, he already understood and she didn't need to. For once, his smile was genuine and he let her wrist go, sliding up one sleeve of his jacket and pressing his exposed wrist side by side against hers.

"Looks like we match, but do me a favor alright? Don't ruin that pretty skin anymore. Nobody deserves pain like that." He pulled a crumpled five dollar bill out of his pocket and placed it into her open palm, closing her fingers around it. "Stay beautiful sweetheart. Until we meet again."

He winked at her and slithered off the stool, showing that he was a lot shorter than she'd first suspected. He didn't look back as he walked away, stumbling only slightly as he disappeared into the crowd. She couldn't help the blush that crept onto her cheeks as she picked up the tray she had to take upstairs and nudged the small door that cut off the bar from the floor open with her hip. She couldn't stop thinking about the way his hand felt on hers, the way his voice sounded in her ears, the way his eyes haunted her every move. He was distracting her and he was a complete stranger. She knew nothing but his name. She was so lost in her thoughts that she didn't realize the stage had gone quiet and the curtains had closed and she ran straight into Chara as they both entered the dressing room at the same time from different directions. All of the dancers gasped before everything went dead quiet. The tray of now empty glasses fell to the floor, the clatter mixing with Chara's shrill shriek as she looked down at her stained outfit. Her fists clenched at her sides as her head shot up to look at Frisk, whos lips were parted in pure shock.

"I.. I'm so sorry!" she exclaimed, holding out her hands in front of her. "I wasn't paying attention and-"

"You clumsy little bitch," she growled, stepping a few inches closer to her, "Who the hell do you think you are? I hope you're prepared to scrub every single stain out of this by hand until your fingers bleed."

She took another step.

"Who even let you in here?" she hissed, "You look like a carbon copy of every wannabe I've ever seen. You have the plainest face in existence, your boobs are not even in existence and you're way to fat to be a dancer." She reached out and grabbed Frisk's wrist, twisting it slightly, "And now you've proved that you can't even be a waitress. You're an all around failure. What are you even doing here?"

Every word that came out of Chara's mouth made Stacy twitch. Her voice was grating as it was, too high pitched and shrill to be considered enjoyable. If it were up to any of the girls, Chara wouldn't be allowed to sing for herself. She'd be forced to lip sing and let someone else shine for once. Someone with actual talent. She was an over rated spoiled brat and the girl was completely tired of it. Nobody was brave enough to stand up to her, but messing with Frisk was going to far.

"That ENOUGH Chara!"

She practically yelled the words as she stormed forward and threw herself between the two. "It was an accident. Anyone with eyes can see that so you're either throwing a fit to be a moody bitch, or you're throwing a fit because she's a prettier version of you and you can't handle it." The blonde narrowed her eyes, ready to throw a punch at any second. The brunette was prone to violent outbursts.

Chara began laughing hysterically. "Oh, the wannabe girl jumps to the rescue," she cooed with an eyeroll. "Your botched Barbie surgery isn't fooling anyone. We all know what's under that skirt." Chara knew every button to push, the words clearing getting to Stacy as she dug her nails into her own palms to keep from bursting into tears. Her eyes narrowed further, but the obvious glistening in her irises gave her away.

"Stop it!" Tetris pleaded, holding her ears. Her heart completely sank at the display. Mettaton and Tetris could handle insults like that but Stacy.. Stacy had been battling with her identity since she was a little girl and everyone knew that, including Chara. Not to mention, Tetris had been in love with Stacy since seventh grade and seeing her in pain was unbearable. Chara ignored her pleas of coarse, gesturing to Stacy's clenched fists.

"Don't you know that boys aren't supposed to hit girls?" she purred and that's when the blonde lunged. It was hard to tell who was winning really. There were moments where Chara would manage to get on top and moments where Stacy would and nobody was brave enough to tear them apart. Thankfully Bailey Anders, nicknamed Bratty among the girls, had enough sense to go get security. Undyne grabbed ahold of Chara and Papyrus helped Stacy up as Mettaton pushed his way into the room, demanding to know what happened.

Frisk was shaking where she stood, tears flooding her eyes, her arms folded over her chest. "I-it was my fault.." she whispered, "I should have been more careful.."

Mettaton wrapped his arms around the girl, glaring at Chara. He knew there was no way Stacy would have started this unprovoked and Chara was known for starting drama. "Go home," he said harshly, "You're done for the night."

"What?" She exclaimed shrilly, trying to fight her way out of Undynes grip, "You can't do that!"

"Oh yes I can. You're both done for tonight. Now go. Tetris, take Stacy to her room. Bratty, Catty, I need you to go on for them. Get into makeup as quickly as possible. I need to find someone to replace Chara."

"I can do it..."

Every person in the room went quiet and all eyes turned to Frisk. "I know all the words to the song and the movements are really really easy.. She just stands there most of the time. I see it every night. Let me do it."

"No," Mettaton said immediately, "No, Frisk. Absolutely not. Go back upstairs until I can come talk to you. I'll do it if I have to but you are not going up there."

"But-"

"No buts! Its out of the question. This is not a risk I am willing to take."

"Actually, I don't think its a bad idea," Tetris said, moving to Frisk's side, "Think about it Mettaton. They look similar enough to not raise suspicion. She could pass as Chara easily. We don't have time to think of a different solution. We need to send someone out there now."

Mettaton had an awful feeling about this... But Flowey was hardly ever here on week days and he needed a replacement and he didn't have the heart to crush Frisk's dreams.

"Fine. Get her in the dress. Now."


	9. Paying in Naivety

**AN: Hey again guys! I'm super sorry that I haven't written in awhile but I've had a terrible case of writers block. But, I think I've got it back now so expect more frequent updates! Also, just a heads up, we're at the point in the story where some really dark themes are going to manifest so just a little warning there. The song Frisk is supposed to be singing in this chapter is Gods and Monsters by Lana Del Rey if you want to check that out! Other than that, happy reading!**

* * *

 _ **Chapter Nine: Paying in** **Naivety**_

Of coarse the dress didn't fit. Frisk's bust was a size up from Chara's and her thighs were much thicker so instead of the sheer sequin covered dress that was usually worn for the number, Frisk ended up a still skin tight red dress with a slit up the side and a collar that was cut a little too low for her taste but there was no time to change it. They'd applied a minimal amount of makeup to her face: Ruby red lipstick, eyeliner and mascara. She had a natural flush due to the fact that her heart was beating all the way up in her throat so blush wasn't needed. As she looked in the mirror, she realized just how much she hated her image. She pressed on her stomach and rubbed her pigmented lips together, almost wishing she hadn't volunteered for this but it was too late now. They were already ushering her into position. She stood in the middle of the stage with the curtains closed as the girl who was helping her get dressed, Shyren, strapped the angel wings onto her back and adjusted them so that they were center.

Mettaton felt like he was going vomit as he looked at her standing out there. She was so young.. so innocent and he'd let her just walk out there completely unprepared. He was praying to gods that he didn't believe in that this would go smoothly and that this entire situation would turn out okay. He didn't have much time to prepare for it, however because the curtains were already opening and the girl was met face to face with the awaiting crowd. She couldn't see much due to the bright stage lighting but she'd managed to catch the horrified look on Grillby's face from way in the back before the musical cues filled her ears.

The lighting was dim and the stage was full of smoke, a single spotlight casting her in light. She took a few confident steps forward, her angelic voice belting the first line of the song with ease. Nobody had ever heard her sing before but the sound of her voice echoing into the silent room sent shivers down everyone's spine. All eyes were fixated on her. She was owning the stage. She followed the simple choreography perfectly, even adding her own bit of flare here and there but never once missing a beat. She looked like a natural up there even though she was inwardly freaking out. She couldn't see anyones reaction. Did they even like her? Was she doing well? She tried not to focus on that part and performed her little heart out. After all, Mettaton had been hesitant enough to send her out tonight so this could be her last chance to do what she'd always wanted to do. The moment was so surreal and before she knew it, the curtains were closing an a roaring crowd.

All eyes were on her the moment she re-entered the dressing room, a mixture of pride and disbelief on their faces. Mettaton was the first to step forward and throw his arms around her and fill her ears with words of encouragement. Despite the danger of it all, he was proud of her. She'd done beautifully and if the circumstances were different, he'd let her go on all the time. It was time they had a little chat.. one that he wasn't looking forward to. All of the girls and the stagehands were talking at once, congratulating her and boosting her confidence when a heavy, slow clap formed in the background. Mettaton couldn't hide the horror on his face as he looked up and saw two massive figures lurking in the shadows as Flowey stepped into the light, still smacking his hands together. A sickening smile twisted his features and it was obvious he meant business.

"Well done, my dear," he purred, stepping closer to the pair. "Well done. Forgive me for not using your proper name, but it seems that we haven't been properly introduced." He tisked in Mettaton's direction when he pushed Frisk behind him. The man looked so desperately at the crime boss. He'd take the punishment for this as long as it meant Frisk would be safe.

"Flowey please.. leave the girl out of this. She had nothing to do with this, it was all my idea."

"Oh, I believe that," he said with a soft chuckle, "Who knows, maybe its my fault. Maybe I haven't been keeping a proper eye on you. Maybe I've given you too much freedom. I should have known that you'd convert back to your old ways eventually. You just had to take in the stray. You couldn't let her roam the streets all helpless and alone, could you? I will give you props though. You almost had me fooled. In fact, you probably would have had I not run into our angry little diva on her way out the door. What? You didn't think she'd tattle?" He reached up and placed a hand on the dancer's face, brushing his thumb across his high cheekbone. "But let me ask you this, Mettaton.. Haven't I taken enough from you? Your family.. your livelihood.. your virginity... But it seems I haven't taken enough." He snapped his free hand and his thugs came to his side, causing all of the girls to cower where they stood. This only fueled Flowey's fire. Mettaton, on the other hand, was quivering. Just that small touch was enough to make him relive memories that made him sick. His words weren't comforting either.

"Flowey, please.. she's just a child.." he begged, fighting back tears. He didn't want to show his weakness, but he couldn't let him do this to someone else. "I'll do anything.. just let her go.."

"If she's old enough to dance on my stage, she's old enough for what comes next." He nodded his head and one of his men grabbed Frisk from behind. Her eyes went wide with fear and the softest whimper escaped her.

"W-what does he mean by that..?" she hadn't wanted to speak, but her curiosity got the better of her. Flowey ignored her of coarse, keeping his attention focused on Mettaton.

"Oh, don't give me that look darling.. you should feel relieved! Someone's already paid me in cash for her, so at least we don't have to stick her on stage in front of everyone wearing nothing but her underwear like we do for these poor girls."

"Why are you punishing her for something I did?!" Mettaton asked in a harsh tone, narrowing his eyes at the shorter man.

"Isn't it obvious? The punishment isn't hers.. its yours. How many times have I told you Mettaton? You can't save them all. Take her away."

Frisk screamed for her friend the entire time she was drug away and he'll never forget the look of pure betrayal on her face as he watched her disappear. She'd always wondered what the rooms on the lower floor were used for but she never expected she'd get her answer by being shoved into one. The door was locked from the outside so no matter how hard she tugged on the handle, it wouldn't open. She didn't need to look behind her to know she wasn't alone either but the voice she heard sent chills down her spine.

"Hey sweetheart," Sans cooed from the bed before pushing to his feet. "Remember me?"


	10. Exactly Where You'd Like Me

**AN: FINALLY! THIS IS FINALLY UP! I am sooooo so so so so so soooooooooo sorry that this took so long. Jeez its been months.. I've just been struggling so hard with my writing lately and finding inspiration and I just kept pushing it off.. I still dont know if I'm completely happy with it but you guys deserve a new chapter and I've been working on it long enough. A part of me thinks I just wanted to keep you in anticiptation longer. I'm cruel like that. Anyway, I hope its okay and I hope you guys are still with me on this journey I'm on.**

* * *

 ** _Chapter Ten: Exactly Where You'd Like Me_**

The room was stiff and silent for a moment as everything processed in Frisk's brain. She'd pressed herself up against the door, on the verge of hyperventilating as the lamp on table beside the dingy bed was flipped on, the room casted in light. Sans seemed more ominous than he had early that night and a soft whimper escaped her again. She dug her fingernails into the brown carpet as if that could save her as soon as the man took a few more steps toward her. There was a disturbing smirk on his face as he did so, the look making her quake with fear. Silent tears streamed down her face and she bit the inside of her lip to stop it from quivering. She was trying to be strong. She really was.

"Come on now, kitten," he cooed to her, unzipping his jacket and tossing it on the bed. "I haven't got all night now. Why don't you stand up and strip for me."

Those few sentences made her feel sick, bile rising up in her throat but she swallowed it. Her hands began to shake and she pressed her back further against the door, trying so desperately to get away from him. With each step he took toward her, she held her breath, her chest beginning to ache from the lack of air.

"Are you deaf, girl?" he demanded, now close enough to her that if he were to reach out, he could touch her. "I paid good money for this." He dropped down into a crouching position just to be closer to her and grabbed her shoulders. "I told you to strip."

Unable to help it, she let out a scream and started to sob, thrashing in his grasp. There was creaking from outside the door, footsteps echoing in the hallway that got softer and softer with each passing second. That's when Sans broke his hold on her.

"Okay, okay, they're gone. You can calm down now." He stayed crouched in front of her, his eyes gentle now instead of piercing and the tightness in the air seemed to ease. "Just breathe normally. I'm not going to hurt you."

Frisk continued to hyperventilate, confusion in her now puffy eyes. If he wasn't going to hurt her, what was with the act? Why was he here in the first place? Why did he pay money to have her locked in this room with him?

"I'm sorry I scared you. There were guards outside.. The only way to make them go away was to convince them something unholy was going down in here. They're reporting back to Flowey. He has to be convinced I had sex with you," he whispered, the tone of his voice indicating he was telling the truth, "I'm sure you have a lot of questions. If you calm down, I'll answer them all."

The poor girl couldn't stop crying as she watched him stand up and walk back to his jacket, lifting it from the bed only to drape it over her shoulders. When she finally got ahold of her voice she whispered, "What do you want from me..?" She slid her arms through the arm holes and zipped up the zipper, the already warm material easing the chill from her skin. The room was silent again as Sans searched for an answer to satisfy her question. He didn't really want anything from this girl. Nothing ominous anyway. He just wanted the knowledge that she wasn't with someone who was going to rape her and toss her aside like a piece of trash. He knew what these girls went through every night. He knew the entire history of this little club and he didn't want that for Frisk.

"Look kid, when I met you earlier, you seemed like a sweet girl but there's no way you're any older than fifteen or sixteen. When I heard that fucker talking about putting you on stage, it made me sick. These other girls.. they made the decision to be here. They made the decision to do this. You were put through this against your will and I couldn't bare the thought of something bad happening to you. I just couldn't. So I pulled him aside before he could get to you and offered a reasonable price. I don't want anything from you except maybe your friendship. Just knowing you're safe for now is enough for me." He sat down on the bed, cracking a little smile at her and patted the spot beside him. "Do me a favor, would ya and get off the floor?"

Frisk seemed satisfied with his answer, the trust she felt from earlier coming back to her. If he was going to do something, he would have already. She stood from her place on the ground and sat beside him, resting her head on his shoulder. A wide range of emotions were racing through her and she couldn't decide which was more prominent. She remained quiet, reminding herself to breath every couple of seconds so she wouldn't pass out.

"You're wearing your betrayal on your face like a halloween mask," Sans whispered, putting his arm around her.

"Hm?" She looked up, her eyes clouded with confusion.

"You're mad at him aren't you? Mettaton? For dragging you into this, right? You shouldn't be. I know this current situation sucks, but where would you be right now if he hadn't taken you in that night? He really did just want to save you. That's kind of what he does."

"How do you know all that? About me and Mettaton?"

"You mean other than the fact that I'm in here every night? My brother is a guard here. The tall, dorky one that took you to the suite on your first night here."

"You mean Papyrus?" she asked with bright eyes, a new wave of relief washing over her. If Sans knew Papyrus, he couldn't be that bad. Papy was so sweet to her when they first met and even now he made an effort to greet her every day and always asked if she needed anything.

"Yep. He would belong to me. He may be a handful at times but he's my brother and I love him." It was quiet for a long moment before Frisk found her voice again.

"What did you mean when you said 'that's kind of what he does' about Mettaton?"

Sans adjusted his body so he was sitting directly in front of her. "What? You think this place was always the shithole it is today? Just a few years ago it was a halfway house for runaway teens. These girls you see everyday? They were once just like you. Mettaton ran away when he was sixteen, a year after his mother died in some car crash. He was in the car with her or something. I don't know that whole story. It's apparently a pretty touchy subject. Anyway, when she died, he inherited a lot of money. She was this big shot defense lawyer and she had A LOT but his dad wasn't going to let him see a dime. Man was apparently a wreck after she died and turned into an abusive prick. It's not that big of a shock that he ran away. He did a lot of things he's not proud of after that. Prostitution, theft.. you name it, he did it to get by. That was until his sister found him again and gave him his share of the inheritance. He used it to buy this place and started taking in girls who were down on their luck. They each came with their own talents and he tutored them, turning this place into a burlesque club. It used to be an old hotel so it wasn't hard. The girls had the old rooms for themselves and the money they made doing their shows was their own form of income. It gave their hopeless looking lives meaning again but running this kind of business isn't cheap. He was behind on the bills and about to get evicted when Flowey swooped in to the rescue. Giving this place up was the hardest decision he'd ever had to make. The moment he took over, Flowey turned it into what you see today. He has like three different locations besides this one that he runs too. He gave each of the girls a choice and those who wanted out took what they had and left. Those who couldn't bare the streets again stayed and continue to subject themselves to the same humiliation every Thursday through Sunday. Mettaton already blames himself. Try not to be too hard on him."

The whole time Sans talked, Frisk could feel her heart breaking. He'd tried to protect her from this the whole time while still trying to give her a home. He'd risked his own skin for her to feel warm, fed and loved and here she was blaming him for this. He'd only done what he thought was best for his girls. How could she be mad at him? She decided that she couldn't be and was anxious to get back and let him know that she was okay and that no harm had come to her that night. Heavy footsteps echoed softly down the hall and Sans immediately went on guard. He slid his jacket off of Frisk and threw it haphazardly on the ground, quickly unbuttoning his pants and letting them fall to the ground as well.

"Do you trust me?" he asked in a hushed tone, gently clasping her shoulders. When she nodded, he quickly unzipped her dress, having to rip it to get it off of her and tossed it on the floor, pushing her backward on the bed. "I need you to put your acting skills to work. Curl up as tightly as you can. Pretend to cry. They have to think I fucked you, remember? Quickly."

"No..." She whimpered, not having to pretend to cry because the tears were already there. "Don't let them take me, Sans... Not again... Please!"

He leaned in and kissed her forehead, letting her tears tumble only for the sake of her appearance. He hated that she was so scared. He understood why but he wished there was more he could do. "I won't let them hurt you, sweetheart. That's a promise. Now do what I said."

Her whole body shook as she curled into herself, digging her nails into the sheets and clinging to the bed. Sans sat up in the bed beside her, no longer touching her. She couldn't see his face but just having him near her made this whole thing less traumatic. Her hair and makeup were a wreck and her clothes were misshapen and torn. The scenery screamed that she'd been taken advantage of. She shut her eyes tightly, sending up prayers to whatever god was watching over her that this would all be over soon and no further harm would come to her tonight just as the door creaked open, casting a little sliver of light over the floor. Her time was up.


	11. Found Another Victim

_**AN: Thank you for all of your lovely words of encouragement on my last chapter and being so patient with me! I don't have much to say about this one thought! I debated on making it longer but I liked the cliff hanger a little too much! I hope you guys like it!**_

 _ **Chapter Eleven: Found Another**_ ** _Victim_**

Flowey's office was at the end of the long range of hallways. It had clearly been a bedroom at one point but the bed had been replaced with a large desk and swivel chair, the smaller desk in the corner covered with a mixture of paper, money, and product. The mob boss sat with his hands folded, sitting upright in his chair as he waited for the girl to be delivered to him. He'd made the specific request that she be brought in the exact state they found her in and the perverted parts of him hoped that meant without clothes. He could hear faint footsteps echoing in the hallway and knew it was either his guards returning to him or a girl leaving her room. He was hoping for the first option. He had twenty girls total and hoped to have twenty one by the time this conversation was over. He lit a cigarette just as the door creaked open and the two men brought the half naked girl into the room. It wasn't what he'd hoped for exactly but it was better than her being fully clothed. He looked her up and down, admiring her curves and smooth skin. She was definitely his type of girl. The more he looked at her the more he wanted her.. and the more uncomfortable Frisk became. She tried to cover her body the best she could but her arms could only cover so much. She felt weak and vulnerable but she tried not to let it show. Sans wanted her to be brave so she would try her damndest to be. She turned her nose up, keeping her face blank despite the fact that she was trembling. Flowey noticed of course. He always noticed the little details.

"Nice to see you again, my dear," he cooed, flicking an ash into the ashtray next to his files. The whole room had dim lighting and the lamp on the desk illuminated his features in such a sinister way. A chill went down Frisk's spine but she remained quiet, pinching her lips together. He gestured for her to sit and when she didn't, he snapped his fingers and one of the guards lifted her and sat her down in the chair despite the fact that she struggled. Flowey just chuckled and shook his head, taking another long draw on his Newport.

"Being difficult will get you nowhere, darling. Lets not forget I hold the keys to your friends' futures. The more you fight me, the more I can hurt them."

The girl's heart started to race. He'd apparently done all of this just to spite Mettaton in the first place and after the story Sans had told her, she didn't want any further pain to come to her friend or any of the other girls. They went through enough as it was. For the greater good, she would cooperate.

"Lets start with a name," he said, drumming the fingers of his free hand against the wood, giving her another once over. The way he looked at her made her feel so sick. Hopefully this conversation didn't last long because she didn't know how much of him she could handle.

"Frisk," she told him, her voice coming out as soft and shaky instead of confident like she had intended it to. She didn't really care much at this point. He was a creep and so what if he knew he was getting to her. She was stuck here anyway.

"Last name?"

"No last name. Just Frisk."

He put his but out, blowing his last puff of smoke and extended a hand. "Nice to meet you Frisk. I'm Flowey."

Despite her better judgement, she took his hand. It was cold and boney but oddly smooth and soft. Underneath the smell of smoke, he emanated something tropical like mango and coconuts and she started to wonder if it was from lotion or body wash. It overpowered the smell of his cologne and made him less unpleasant somehow. She shook twice then quickly let go, thrusting her hands into her lap.

"Frisk, I want you to know that it's not you that I'm unhappy with. Mettaton knows the rules. He's been here long enough to know. He shouldn't have been hiding you the way he did. Had he talked to me, I'm sure we could have worked out an arrangement sooner. I'm sorry tonight had to go the way it did but he tried my hand. You understand don't you?" He didn't wait for her to answer and continue his little rant. "Now, as much as I'd like to let you stay, if I let you stay for free, I'd have to let the other girls stay for free and I can't have that, now can I?" He folded his hands once more and leaned forward against the desk. "So the way I see it, we have a few options. You're very talented my dear. You have the voice of an angel and with some practice, I'm sure you could get more difficult choreography down. You've already had a taste of what the nights are like here and it wasn't so bad was it? You learn to get used to it."

Flowey opened a drawer and pulled rummaged around inside it for a moment before he produced a packet of papers, sliding it across the table for Frisk to see. "This is a binding contract that all of my girls have signed, stating that you relinquish your services to me in exchange for food, clothing, housing and protection. Now, you and I can work out an agreement right here right now and you can sign this, making you one of my dancers. If you choose this route, I will give you your own apartment upstairs unless you chose to stay with Mettaton, who will train you. He will teach you the dances and the songs and take you to your outfit fittings as well as fill you in on the way things work around here if you haven't already figured it out. However, if you don't choose to go this route and you choose not to be one of my dancers I'm afraid I will have to ask you to vacate the premises and you will be forced back onto the street. You will be banned from the property and will be removed if you are sighted here. These are your options, Frisk."

Her heart sank immediately. Her only options were to engage in this madness or be homeless again? This was going to be the toughest decision she ever had to make. There was no way she'd get this lucky again. Sooner or later someone would come along and take her virginity from her. They would beat her and rape her and steal the light within her heart... or she could starve to death on the street. Her stomach churned and she started crying, placing one hand over her mouth as she stared at the contract with disdain.

Flowey stood up and walked around the table, placing both hands on Frisk's shoulders, slowly massaging them. He leaned in, his lips close to her ear and whispered, "The choice is yours."


End file.
